And Another Thing
by AphraelFT
Summary: AU from around SLS, several one-shots into life at Dalton, mostly Wevid hilarity with Klaine interspersed. Based on real situations from my school.
1. Chapter 1

September saw the windows of Dalton Academy for Boys alight once again, with more and more students returning from summer vacation. Aston Martins, Mercedes Benz, and Porsches rolled up the long driveway through the avenue of trees, before pulling up outside the main building, an 18th Century mansion which had long ago been converted into a school. Nevertheless, the Dalton building still retained its old splendour, with polished oak and mahogany furniture and doors. The building itself was one of light, with large windows in almost every room, and a large dome shaped skylight overhead. Creams and browns made up most of the colour scheme in the main building.

The dormitories were not as fancy. Granted, they were perhaps nicer than your average dorm room, with all of the money the school raked in from the exorbitant tuition fees. Each room consisted of a small bed, a desk, chair, cupboards and a small sink with a mirror above it. The students were free to decorate and furnish these rooms to their hearts' content, within reason of course. But to say that any of the Dalton boys possessed even the smallest amount of reason, was blasphemy to their ears.

Shouts, laughter, rolling suitcases, and strict parents' voices filled the halls. As well as the odd explosion. Kurt guided his father carefully through the throng to his room, trying to clear a path through the walking, talking blazers. Burt Hummel looked quite out of place in his cap, and casual outfit, amongst the suit-clad parents, and uniformed boys, and he glanced around nervously, though impressed at his son's ability to live with these boys. Whoever said that you lose your immaturity as you grow older had clearly gone to school.

Finally they reached Kurt's room, and his father pulled his suitcase inside, and heaved it onto the bed. Almost immediately there were students in the room, mostly Warblers, welcoming Kurt back, and even a making a couple of comments about how pleased Blaine would be to see him back. Burt did not miss those. He had met this Blaine kid, several times now, and the circumstances had been...odd, to say the least. He still hadn't quite made up his mind about him.

The boy in question finally appeared about ten minutes later, out of breath from running. He was already dressed in his Dalton uniform, hair gelled perfectly into place of course.

"Kurt!" The tiny boy hugged Kurt, before noticing that Burt was standing there, watching him like a hawk. "Hello Mr Hummel. It's great to see you again." Polite as always, Burt was still not used to manners like that in a teenage boy. He seemed to be trying to fit into a mould. The mould of the perfect boy. But Burt could see that he wasn't as put together as he tried to be. There was something in his eyes, in the way that he had hugged his son, holding on just a little too long to be completely platonic.

"You too." He said, although he could tell Blaine was more distracted by Kurt, and probably hadn't even heard his reply. Burt watched his son's face at Blaine's arrival, and prayed to whoever was up there listening that this boy wouldn't hurt his son. He couldn't deal with anymore pain. He knew how much his son cared about Blaine, he'd even told him. But this Blaine kid, despite seeing so charming and nice, seemed to be totally oblivious. Which was saying something, as Kurt tended to wear his heart on his sleeve, especially when it came to crushes.

"I'd better get going, Kurt. Remember to call me, okay?" Burt wasn't particularly skilled at saying goodbye. He usually preferred to save the emotion. His son hugged him tightly. "I will Dad. Remember, listen to Carole." His son was referring to Burt's love of the most unhealthy food, which his son had been trying to squash for years now. He nodded, and left his son with his best friend.

"So how was your summer?" Blaine asked, leaning against the desk after Kurt had made a few flapping motions at him, in an attempt to stop him from helping unpack. Kurt was very protective of his clothes, and no one was allowed to handle them apart from him.

"It was okay. I mostly just spent time with the New Directions. There were a few parties, and impromptu performances, and so much drama I don't even know where to begin. It's like everyone plays Musical Partners, there's so many break ups, cheating, and revenge plans. It's insane." He hung up his McQueen jacket first, smoothing down the wrinkles, before turning his attention to Blaine and his suitcase. "What about you? How was Egypt?" It did not escape Kurt's notice that Blaine looked incredible. He had a tan, and he seemed so vibrant and happy that his good mood was almost intoxicating.

"It was good. I mean, we saw all of the touristy stuff, and did the museum circuit, but it just seemed so...formal. Like you couldn't relax, or really have fun. I would have died if I hadn't had my iPhone I think. It was really interesting and everything, but sometimes the company of your parents just brings down your mood. I swear my father was girl watching for me. He kept pointing them out, saying how pretty she looked or how I could go talk to someone my age." Blaine took a breath, having said most of that in one go.

"I'm sorry." Kurt replied, feeling a little stupid. What were you supposed to say to a speech like that? His father had been completely accepting of who he was. He wasn't used to having to endure homophobia from your own parents. The thought of Blaine having to live with that was appalling.

"It wasn't so bad. I did like being in Egypt though. It's a beautiful place." Blaine's previously cheery mood was back. "I'd better warn you actually. No matter what you hear, don't come out until I tell you to."

Kurt stared at him in confusion.

"Wait, what?"

"It's just-" Blaine began, before he heard a louder bang come from outside, and the boys outside went completely silent. "Oh God. It's starting."

"What is?" Kurt was starting to worry about his friend now. The boy had gone pale, if that was even possible under that tan. His question was answered by someone else though.

"WESLEY!"

"DAVID!"

Feet pounded down the hallway, coming from both directions. Kurt walked towards his door, but Blaine threw out a hand to his chest, stopping him.

"Not yet. Give them at least 5 minutes before approaching."

The running stopped and Kurt could hear the two boys crash into eachother, just outside Kurt's room. He heard gabbled mixes of sentences coming from the pair at least 3 times faster than normal.

"Oh my God I have to tell you-"

"No but first I have to tell you about-!"

"I crashed my car!"

"I may have been accused of-"

"Did you see It?"

"No, you?"

"Wait, I know where-"

"Oh It's here alright."

There was a thud, and several curses. Kurt looked at Blaine, mouthing 'What the-', before his door crashed open, causing Kurt to flinch back out of habit. Standing in the doorway was the beast of Wevid. The two boys were already tangled up together, arms around each other's shoulders, footsteps and brains completely in sync. The stormed into the room, David using his free arm to grab Blaine, and Wes using his to pull Kurt. They ended up in painful, squashed hug, with their foreheads banging into each other.

"Ow, guys, seriously..." Blaine rubbed his head, glaring at the interracial, heteroflexible, affectionate, love partner, squids. As they called themselves.

"FRODO! PINOCCIO! Our adorable, fashionable, musical, hopelessly oblivious gay babies!" Wes cried, as they were released. David shook his head.

"No, they're not our babies. That would imply they're related, and then that would be incestuous."

"I love how you are more concerned about incest than the fact that the two of you have children together." Blaine quipped, trying to laugh off the 'hopelessly oblivious' insult.

"I think the idea of them having children is just so natural to them." Kurt chimed in. "Can you honestly see them living apart permanently?" David grabbed Wes in a bone crushing hug.

"Quiet, heathen. You know not of what you speak."

"Yeah," said Wes, trying to catch his breath. "and anyway, it wouldn't be incest. We'd adopt them. They wouldn't be related."

"It's still weird having a relationship with your adopted brother, Wesley."

"But it's a name! They're not related at all!"

"Thank God for that."

"Exactly. If they were than they would actually have a reason for this ridiculous game of who can dance around the pink elephant in the room."

"As for us having kids together..." David stopped, then looked around. "Wait, where did they go?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow. I can't believe how many people viewed the first chapter. I'm still new to this so having even one person reading my writing is such a compliment. Thank you to njferrell and muffin467 for reviewing. I don't care if you write your opinions, or criticisms, I just want to know what people think. I do hope you enjoy reading this and hope it doesn't get too dull.**

**I wasn't going to make this into a multi-chapter story, but a lot of people have put Reunion on story alert and I think that I can push myself and make this into a proper story. So thank you all for reviewing/reading/alerting/etc.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters.**

Whilst Wes and David argued about the possibility of Kurt and Blaine being together if they were adopted step brothers, Blaine nudged Kurt and nodded towards the door, holding a finger to his lips. Kurt grinned and followed him out of the room, moving as quietly as possible. He shut the door carefully, and turned to see Blaine rubbing his forehead.

"I already have a headache, and I've only been in their company for two minutes." People were now starting to venture back into the corridor now that Wes and David had finished their explosive reunion. They seemed used to this event, and had cleared a path through their suitcases and boxes specially. Kurt suddenly realised that he'd just left his own room.

"Now what?" He asked Blaine, who had just finished greeting Matt as he unpacked from the room across the hall.

"We could always go to my room, but they'd probably follow us. They're not just going to let us go so easily. They're vindictive like that." Kurt could still hear the two arguing in his room, and figured they had about ten seconds left until Wes and David realised they were gone.

"How about the Warblers practice room?" Kurt suggested, and Blaine quickly agreed. Kurt's room had gone silent, and Blaine quickly grabbed Kurt's hand, the latter's eyes widening and cheeks flushing, and dragged him down the corridor at a run. The door to Kurt's room opened and Wes and David burst from the room.

"You won't escape us that easily, Peregrin Took!" David hollered as they sprinted after them.

"What?" Kurt asked Blaine as he struggled to keep up with the short boy's surprisingly agile legs.

"Don't ask. In here!" He took a sharp left and Kurt was pulled after him down an unfamiliar corridor, then to the right, then another right. They were suddenly surrounded by books. The room was filled with mahogany bookshelves that were stuffed to bursting with every genre and subject of books imaginable. "The library," Blaine panted, catching his breath. "I don't think they'll follow us here. They seem to be allergic to common sense. And work."

"I've never been here before." Kurt said, walking past one of the bookshelves, running a finger along the spines of the books. Chaucer, Tolkien, Austen, Dostoyevsky, and Hardy were just some of the names he recognised. He wasn't a big reader, though he did like a few classics. Kurt preferred reading fashion magazines, but he did have a small collection of books at home. He knew Blaine adored reading with a passion, and wasn't surprised that he'd taken them here. Blaine looked so much happier being surrounded by books.

"Yeah, I don't think Wes and David have either. They avoid this place like the plague. I usually come here to get away from them and the craziness that follows them like a shadow." Blaine sat down at one of the tables, leaning back into the chair with his head hanging out, eyes closed. He looked so peaceful like that, and Kurt couldn't help but notice the way the muscles of his neck were stretched out tight, his tie a little loose, and Blaine's cheeks flushed from running. Kurt looked out the window to distract himself from the gorgeous boy in front of him.

"So, what now? We can't hide in here forever." Blaine opened his eyes lazily and trained them on Kurt, who kept his gaze focussed on the lawn outside, fully aware of Blaine's eyes on him.

"Whatever you want to do." That was flirting, right? That must have been flirting. It wasn't the sort of thing you normally said to a friend. Or was it? Was he just joking? Kurt bit his lip as these questions and doubts whizzed around his head. He wasn't interested in Kurt at all. Of course he wasn't. After the whole Jeremiah debacle he had laid it out there, and been rejected. And then there had been Rachel. Then Marcus. Obviously Blaine didn't like him like that.

"There they are!" David jumped onto Blaine's lap, wrapping his arms tightly around his, quickly followed by Wes who then jumped onto David's lap, dripping chocolate ice cream everywhere. "We would have been quicker finding you, but Wes got distracted." David supplied as Wes gestured like a proud five year old at his ice cream, which dripped all over Blaine's hair. Kurt tried to back out of the room without being caught, but Wes quickly stuffed the top of the ice cream cone into his mouth and launched off of the doggy-pile. Before Kurt new it, there was a horrid pink strap around his neck.

"Wes, is this...is this a collar?" Wes nodded, pulling Kurt back towards the other two. David had already secured a similar hideous pink collar around Blaine's neck and was holding onto the leash, no longer sitting on the small boy. "Is it just me or are these collars a little...?" Blaine shook his head.

"No, it's not just you. But they don't get it." As Blaine spoke David pointed at the collar around his neck.

"Look, we got tags with your names and our phone numbers on." Kurt looked at the clashing gold tag, which had 'PINOCCIO' engraved on it. Blaine did the same, rolling his eyes when he saw 'THUMBELINA' on his. "And they're pink, which we thought was apt, considering how you're gay and stuff." David stated proudly, Wes nodding along beside him.

"I thought we should get rainbow coloured ones, but we thought you would hate the pink more, Kurt. Blaine doesn't really mind pink, as you can tell by those hideous sunglasses he is constantly forcing on our poor retinas."

"Is that the plural of retina? It could be like retinae."

"Or retinum."

"Or retinii."

"Or it could be something incredibly boring and not worth discussing while your two friends are currently on a leash!" Blaine burst out while Wes and David debated the possibilities. David tugged on his leash sharply.

"Quiet, Thumbelina. Or I'll send you to bed without your dinner."

"It's 9pm! I'm not about to have dinner!"

"Well I'll just send you to bed. If you're good then we'll send Kurt to the same bed." Kurt aimed a sharp kick at David's knee, which he avoided easily. He and Wes led them out of the library, Wes still occupied with eating his ice cream without his hands. This was an incredibly strange sight, and one Blaine and Kurt could have done without. Blaine suddenly remembered his hair and his hand flew to his head, wiping away the chocolate which slid off the hair gel easily, much to Kurt's amusement.

"It's like plastic." He commented, noting the shine of his hair. It really did look like his head had been wrapped in cellophane, or laminated. Wes nodded, swallowing the rest of his ice cream cone in one gulp, ignoring Kurt's scandalised look.

"We've tried to steal his hair gel before, but he gets really unnecessary and violent. Then he won't sing in Warblers, so we usually end up giving it back."

"One of these days." David said wistfully, glaring at Blaine, who suddenly snorted with laughter.

"Did you seriously just shake your fist at me?"


	3. Chapter 3

**I didn't think I'd get to post a chapter today, but seeing as I have a whole half day which I should be using to revise for my drama exam tomorrow, I couldn't resist writing more. Thank you to ****and **_**njferrell**_** for reviewing. I'm glad you like Wes and David (I've based them off of a couple of friends of mine )I don't know what came over me with the collars, but it was fun to write anyway.**

**A couple of scenes in this chapter actually did happen over the last couple of days. Also, I've finally decided to make this a collection of scenes from Dalton life, because so far there hasn't been much of a plot anyway. Most of these scenes I shall take from my life and friends at boarding school. There's a little angst in this bit, but just barely. It gets lighter at the end I promise.**

**I'm desperate to know what everyone thinks, regardless whether you enjoyed it or not :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters. Or Alexander McQueen.)**

**My thanks to **_**Lily M. Richards**_** and her package!**

Kurt scrolled down the Alexander McQueen menswear page on his laptop wistfully, saving any particular items that caught his eye. He was in love with the latest designs, and the Royal Wedding dress, which had been utter perfection in his opinion. Sarah Burton was a genius. He had for once finished all of his homework, something that would be remedied come first period tomorrow, and it was only about 7pm. The boarding house was quiet (or as quiet as a boarding house full of teenage boys could be) and there was only a minimal amount of shouts and crashes.

After a few more minutes there was a knock at Kurt's door, and Kurt called for them to come in, never taking his eyes from the computer screen. That Spotlight Silk Jacquard waistcoat was absolutely stunning. It was also over a thousand dollars. The door opened and Blaine was revealed. Kurt didn't even need to look up to know it was him. He could _sense_ it almost, and no one else was that short, or had such shiny, gelled hair.

"Hey Kurt," Blaine was standing in the doorway dressed in a blue Dalton hoodie and jeans, Kurt noted. He always assessed what people were wearing without even thinking about it. "You're not busy or anything are you?" He glanced at the laptop screen, spotted the waistcoat and grinned. "Ah, I see you are." Kurt found it one of Blaine's many qualities that he understood that fashion would always trump any form of work in Kurt's book.

"No, no, just window shopping." He gave the waistcoat another wistful look before closing the laptop. "So what's up?" Kurt asked, still unsure as to why Blaine was there. Normally he would text first, or just come in. He didn't look like his usual, confident and wonderful self. There were dark lines under his eyes and his hands were shaking slightly as he sat down on Kurt's bed. He'd only seen Blaine look particularly unhappy whenever his parents came to Dalton. But then Kurt hadn't been at the school long enough to have witnessed much else. He was still a newbie to most of his classmates.

Blaine was staring at the carpet intently, looking as if he was trying to figure out a way to burrow through it.

"It's my dad." He said finally, still not looking at Kurt. His hands were clasped together tightly, his knuckles white from the pressure. "He's...he's back in town. He called, left a voicemail." Here he paused, looking up so that his hazel eyes landed on Kurt's face. "He wants to talk. Meet up and reconnect. Says he's sorry." Kurt was completely nonplussed. He'd only ever heard snippets about Blaine's past, and the other boy had barely even mentioned his father to Kurt.

"So...are you going to talk to him?" He asked, for lack of anything else to say. Blaine just shook his head and shrugged, eyes falling back down to the floor.

"I really don't know. I'm not sure if I can, or what I'd say to him. What if he isn't sorry and he'd lying again? I don't know if I can face him. Not yet." Now Kurt was even more confused, and intrigued. What could Blaine's father possibly have done to turn his son into a miserable wreck by leaving a mere voicemail? Kurt leaned forward and placed his hand on Blaine's clasped ones, squeezing them gently.

"Do you want to talk about it? I'm not really sure how to give you any advice, 'cause you've never mentioned him until now." Blaine shifted slightly, looking uncomfortable. He didn't speak for a couple of minutes before nodding with a resigned sigh.

_Blaine could hear sobbing coming from the kitchen as he crossed the hall on his way back to his room. The light was on downstairs and cast a dim orange glow on the wall of the stairwell. Cautiously, Blaine altered his course so that he was creeping slowly down the stairs, ears straining for the sound of footsteps. The sobbing grew louder, and there was the clink of glass and light splash of liquid being poured into it._

_He was at the bottom now, and was pressed against the wall just outside of the kitchen. Blaine could now tell that the sobbing was definitely not his mother. He'd heard her cry enough times in the last few years, a lot more in the recent months. This noise was more masculine, and it suddenly hit him. His father was in there. His father was in there crying. _

_He heard the glass again, the liquid, and a loud gulping sound. His father was in there crying and drinking. Carefully, he peered around the doorframe. Blaine almost wished he hadn't. The sight of one's father slumped in a chair over a bottle of whiskey and knocking back glass after glass of the stuff was not a sight any child wished to see._

_The floorboard beneath his foot creaking and his father suddenly looked up, straight at him. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy, with a glint of something else there that Blaine couldn't quite identify. He shakily stood up, swaying a little, before smiling a grotesque, unnatural smile, which looked more like a smirk than anything._

"_Are you happy now boy?" He asked, his voice loud and harsh, slurring his words. "This is YOUR FAULT!" His voice climbed to a shout now, reflecting off the walls and bouncing back at him. "YOU DID THIS! Why did you have to be gay? Why did I get a fag for a son?" Blaine stepped back, the words cutting into his heart like knives. His father rushed forward suddenly and grabbed the front of his shirt. "You've ruined my life! Your life! My career! Ruined it!" His fist suddenly sank into Blaine's stomach, his face, and then there were hands clamped around his neck, shaking and squeezing him. Blaine was completely powerless, frozen. He couldn't have fought back even if he'd tried. _

_Suddenly he was dropped and he heard a loud scream. This one was high-pitched and feminine. Mother. He heard her shouting at his father, and then there were arms pulling him up, hurrying him out of the house and into the car. Eleanor jumped into the driver's seat, switching on the ignition. Blaine turned his head weakly to see a tall figure standing in the driveway, watching them got._

Kurt was speechless, staring at Blaine as he finished his tale, which he had told in a flat, expressionless voice.

"I haven't seen him or heard from him since, and now he's contacted me all of a sudden, wanting to talk. It's been years. I don't know, I just can't face him." Blaine's voice died away and Kurt was filled with sympathy for the boy who had kept on his façade for so long, keeping this inside without confiding in anyone. He opened his mouth to say something but just then the door crashed open to reveal David.

"Wes has an enormous package!" He gasped, panting from the run. Then he frowned, and backed out of the room, shutting the door, then throwing it open again and stepping inside. "Wes has an enormous _parcel!"_ David corrected. Kurt and Blaine just sat staring at him and then at Wes who appeared behind him, carrying a huge cardboard box in his arms, shouting at the top of his voice.

"MY PACKAGE IS FULL OF CHOCOLATE!"

**So...yeah. Read, Review, Run away screaming, whatever you like. I'm not sure if I'll get to update tomorrow, but I probably will anyway. Thanks to everyone who has alerted, reviewed, favourite, etc. **


	4. Chapter 4

The internet was not working. Despite being such a wealthy school that raked in thousands of dollars from the tuition fees, Dalton couldn't seem to understand the average teenage boys need for working internet. They used it for everything, cheating on homework, avoiding work, watching videos of the competing show choirs (in Wes' case) and for stalking your friends performances during their time at their old school (in Blaine's case).

Sighing, he locked his laptop and left his room, automatically heading to Blaine's room. Upon knocking and receiving a 'Come in.' from inside, Kurt entered the room, and found Blaine glaring at his laptop, whilst both Wes and David lounged on his bed, huddled over a large map which was covered in several Xs and red circles. They were muttering together and had their Plotting faces on. After being at Dalton for a just a week, Kurt had learned to be afraid when they wore _that_ particular expression.

"I take it your internet isn't working either." Blaine was continually pressing Refresh on his browser, glaring irritably at the 'Internet Explorer cannot display the webpage' message that flashed up onscreen each time he did so. Kurt shook his head and sat down on what little room there was left, opening his laptop again. Wes and David remained oblivious, and Kurt heard occasional snatches of their plans.

"No, you can't go round that way..."

"If we could get hold of those wire-cutters..."

"_Technically_ we wouldn't be breaking any_ important_ laws..."

"Do you think we could try going _under_...?"

"There's going to be alarms and cameras..."

Kurt stared at them for a minute, before looking back to Blaine, who didn't seem to be listening to them. He was probably used to their scheming by now. Kurt leaned over his shoulder and saw he had given up on the internet and was now occupied with something else.

"You're not seriously playing Solitaire, are you?" Kurt watched as Blaine gave up one game and started another instantly, cards flying across the screen as they set themselves into virtual piles.

"Hey! Don't knock it. It's a good game." Blaine argued, clicking through the cards.

"It is," He agreed, opening his own laptop again and opening a new game himself. It was one of those things that if you saw someone doing it, you felt like doing it yourself. "I'm just surprised that after five minutes without the internet you resort to _solitaire."_

"Well, what else is there to do?" Blaine retorted as he lost yet again. Kurt was spared from answering as the door opened and Peter wandered in with a smirk on his face.

"Guess who's getting laid this weekend!" He crowed, throwing himself onto the bed and sitting directly on top of one of the maps laid out there. Wes and David stopped talking to glare at him as he continued, oblivious to the looks on their faces. "Me! Yeah! You see, it's all part of my plan!" When nobody actually asked what the plan was, which was evidently what Peter had been expecting, he continued on.

"Basically, I'm going to sleep with Natalie, and then my cousin Jo is gonna mention it during her History class, which incidentally is the same class Amy is in. Amy will overhear, call me and beg me to take her back!" He threw out his arms in a ta-da sort of gesture, and frowned when he realised that nobody seemed to be paying attention, with Blaine and Kurt glued to their respective games of solitaire, and Wes and David trying to straighten out the map he'd just sat on. "Well?" He asked, prodding Kurt's shoulder.

"Well what?" Kurt answered in a monotone, never taking his eyes from the screen, as he was hypnotised by building the suits of cards at the top of the screen.

"What do you think?" Peter pressed, miffed that no one was in awe of his genius. Blaine was now back to the refreshing tactic, but sadly to no avail.

"I think that as I am the only one in here who has the most girlish mind of all of us, I have to say that your plan is ridiculous. This Amy or whatever her name is will just going to think you're an idiot. Sleeping around with other girls isn't going to impress her or make her want you. It never worked at McKinley, and boys were trying that all of the time. It just bought them humiliation, which in the end they never really cared about, because they got laid."

Peter was unaffected by this.

"Ah, but you don't get it. She wants me back man. Like really wants me. The thought of me getting with another girl will drive her insane with jealousy. She's crazy, it'll work all right. I have a way with the ladies." He puffed up his chest and attempted to put on a suave, confident face, but Kurt really just wanted to laugh at him.

"Right okay, Blaine help me out here."

"He's right, Peter. Believe me, you're just going to end up sleeping with this Natalie girl and that will be the end of it. I've met Amy and she isn't the type to just fall at your feet and beg for you. And she isn't going to get jealous, I can assure you." Blaine was now trying out a new game, which Kurt recognised as Mah Jong.

"Trust me guys. Those Crawford Country Day girls are all the same. She'll be jealous alright. It's worked before with a friend of mine. Besides, you two haven't had girlfriends. How do you know how she'll react?" Kurt cleared his throat and looked up at Peter.

"I actually _have _had a girlfriend, Peter." He replied, noting the incredulous look on the boys face. "And she wasn't a beard either. It was a real relationship." Blaine, Wes and David suddenly stopped what they were doing and stared open mouthed at Kurt, who was now focusing again on his laptop.

"What? She was a friend of mine and I was trying to be strai- GOOGLE!"

Blaine's head whipped up and back around to his laptop as he chanted "Google! Google! Goooooogle!" Wes shook his head sadly and addressed Peter.

"I don't know why everyone sees _us _as the mad ones. Do you David?"

"No I don't Wes. I honestly don't." They both look back to their map and continue, oblivious to the creeped out ace of Peter as he edged quietly out of the room.

**AN: Sorry this is shorter than usual. I literally wrote it in the 45 minutes before lights-out and I wanted to get another chapter out before the end of the day. Thank you to all reviewers/favouriters/alerters etc. Your comments and reviews really made my day, I love hearing what people think. Thank you so much.**

**Again, this scene did happen at my school, yesterday actually. I had to change several details and all of the genders, but it was very similar to this. **


	5. Chapter 5

**Yeah,** **so this chapter was a bit pointless. I'm currently working on a new fic 'The Gay Bachelor', and running out of muse for this one. I think I won't be updating daily on Reunion anymore, unless I think of more situations to include. I'm trying to draw inspiration from friends but none of them did anything funny today. Whenever I do find something I will post, but it probably won't be so regular anymore. **

It was like they were actually trying to torture him. You just couldn't get away from Wes and David, no matter how hard you tried. There was never a moment of peace and quiet at Dalton, and being a boarder meant that you never had any peace and quiet in your _life._ Kurt missed the hours he could spend alone in his room at home, reading the latest edition of Vogue, or just doing his homework. But now it was like he wasn't allowed to be on his own. There was always someone around, whether it be Wes and David, or Thad, or Graham, or even Blaine. Not that Kurt minded the company of the latter. But it seemed that his fellow classmates were making a harder effort than normal to hang out with him.

Today in particular he was graced with the presence of Blaine, Wes and David. They were all sitting on his bed, which was particularly unmade now that they had kept jumping on it, smirking as the headboard squeaked. There were so many jokes that stemmed from Kurt's squeaking bed, and his friends exploited every single one of them as Kurt would blush and ignore them as well as possible. Tonight he was focusing (or at least_, attempting _to focus)on his French paper whilst Wes and David reminisced on good times.

"You know, perhaps we didn't quite think it through." David reasoned, flicking through one of Kurt's magazines without really taking anything in. Every so often he would point to a model or actress and give his opinion on whether he found her 'hot or not'.

"Yeah, it did kinda backfire after we stepped in." Wes shifted so that he lay along the bed, colouring in a diagram of DNA for his Biology project, although he was using Dalton colours, which looked a little odd to say the least.

"Well it was your idea to put them in the glasses."

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. Like, real romantic and stuff. The sort of thing you'd see in a movie." Wes defended himself, miffed that the situation had somehow been _his_ fault.

"You thought that buying $2 rings and slipping them into our drinks was a good idea?" Blaine interjected, running a hand through his hair (an impressive feat considering the amount of gel that it was saturated in) and shaking his head at the two boys.

"Well we certainly didn't think you'd both freak out before coming directly over to our table and rudely interrupting our spying. What was supposed to happen was, you would both blush, Blaine would probably make an awkward excuse for our behaviour, then Kurt would say he thought it was quite sweet anyway. Then one of you, probably Kurt, would lean in and kiss. Blaine, you would be shocked at first and then kiss him back, and then you'd immediately call for the cheque and drag Kurt out of the restaurant and-"

"Okay!" Blaine interrupted, throwing Kurt's pillow at Wes, and trying vainly to cover up his red face. Kurt just leaned further over his work, remembering the incident and trying to pretend he hadn't just heard that, and was certainly not imagining the situation playing out in his head. No, he was not going to think about Blaine kissing him, those soft lips against his own, his hands around his waist. Nope, none of that. "So, Kurt could you explain this thing to me?" David was about to make a rude joke but a glare from Blaine as Kurt moved over to sit on the bed beside him cut him off.

Instead David walked over to the desk, with the bookshelf above it and started taking down books, flicking through them and then putting them back. Not for any particular reason. Between the books were several DVDs, and David picked up the Torchwood Season 2 set, before turning to the others on the bed.

"Blaine, I've found a new reason for you to be in love with Kurt. He's into Torchwood. Kurt I'd advise you to move to a safe distance now." Kurt turned to Blaine, deciding once again to ignore most of what David had said.

"Why is he saying that?" He asked Blaine whilst erasing a particular mistake he'd made.

"David and Wes are slightly freaked out by my love of all things Torchwood." He explained before Wes cut in.

"It's not love it's an obsession! You cried when Ianto died! You know what happened in every single episode and can reference them by number. 'Oh that was in episode three. Episode eight of season 6 was hilarious!"

"First of all, there have only been three seasons of Torchwood, so that was completely wrong. And it's not an obsession. I just happen to be in love with John Barrowman. And the Janto pairing. And Ianto is not dead. I have formulated a plan to steal the Doctor's TARDIS and bring him back to life."

"Yeah, good luck stealing a _fictional_ character's _fictional_ time machine to bring a dead _fictional_ character back to life." David pointed out, before turning back to Kurt. "See, he's hopeless. He knows the all of the actors' _birthdays_. That's just verging on stalkerism. And not the god kind of stalkerism like his stalking of you." With that he placed the DVD back in the bookshelf and pulled out another one. "Oh my God! You have Sweeney Todd!" At once Wes sat up straight, looking around anxiously.

"Yeah...so?" Kurt raised an eyebrow at their sudden change in demeanour. Blaine decided to fill him in, not even bothering to look up from his work.

"David and Wes have a man crush. On Jamie Campbell Bower." Kurt wrinkled his nose slightly. He thought of the actor, and suddenly decided he disliked him, purely based on his uncanny resemblance to Jeremiah, the Gap guy. Wes sighed happily.

"I'd definitely turn gay for him. The way he sings_ Joanna_ makes me swoon."

"Well that would be difficult seeing as he is straight. And engaged. To Bonnie Wright, aka Ginny Weasley." Blaine muttered, evidently used to his two friends' strange crush. There was noise from outside, and they could hear footsteps running down the hall as someone belted out the lyrics to Bootylicious. This someone sounded rather like Tom, one of the Warblers. He was as crazy as Wes and David, and five times as annoying. If it was possible to be more annoying than the Wevid monster, as they sometimes referred to themselves.


	6. Chapter 6

"And then he's pouring all of this glitter from a box onto the guy and shouting stuff like 'Feel the rainbows! This hate is dividing our country and it's not helping our economy!' and then he gets escorted out by security, and as the guard shuts the door, he says 'God loves you!'" Blaine finally collapsed after finishing his story of a video he'd just found on YouTube while Kurt shook with laughter. He and Blaine were sitting in the Lima Bean for their usual 'post-rehearsal coffee-totally-not-a-date' as their friends liked to call it.

"I have to see that video!" Kurt chuckled as they both recovered, taking a sip from his grande non-fat mocha. Every time he tasted the coffee inside, Kurt felt his lips tingle as he thought about how Blaine's lips would taste. Right now probably like medium drip and something else, unique to Blaine. _Don't go there, _Kurt warned himself, praying to all things holy and fashionable that Blaine wouldn't notice how spaced he'd been for a second, or the blush that was creeping up his cheeks. Luckily Blaine had just got up to get more sugar from the counter, so Kurt had a minute to compose himself.

Blaine quickly returned, ripping open the small sachet and pouring the sugar into his coffee, while Kurt watched almost mesmerised by the action that he'd watched at least a hundred times. Finally Blaine looked up as he drank, and then frowned, putting the cup down as he stared at something behind Kurt. Looking around, Kurt found his gaze directed to a table a few metres away, at which sat four boys in very familiar looking Dalton Academy uniforms. All of the boys seemed utterly fascinated by the newspapers and magazines left around the coffee shop, and one boy was leaning down to 'tie his shoelace'. They were all badly and incredibly conspicuously attempting to hide from them.

"Oh for goodness sake," Blaine muttered angrily as he got to his feet again, storming over to the table and sharply pulling the newspapers our of the boys' hands. Wes, David, Mark and Jack were revealed, Mark and Jack looking a little sheepish. Wes and David however were observing Blaine with unaffected eyes.

"Hello Blaine, fancy seeing you and Kurt here." David quipped, as Kurt left his seat to come and join them.

"Is there a problem?" Wes' face was set in a neutral mask, but there was a twinkle of barely concealed amusement in his eyes.

"Is there a reason you four are spying on us?" Kurt prompted, tapping his foot impatiently. Blaine sat down at their table, examining the papers.

"_Spying_?" David scoffed in the worst attempt at innocence. "Why ever would you even _suggest_ such a deceitful and underhand thing? We came here to have coffee and chat." Blaine scoffed and held up the newspaper he'd taken from David. Cut into it, like in some child's cartoon, were a small pair of eyeholes. Kurt gave David a 'Seriously?' look, unable to believe that he'd actually _cut eyeholes_ into a newspaper.

"Why did you want to spy anyway? All we do here is talk and drink coffee." Kurt asked the four of them, giving Mark and Jack disapproving looks. Wes and David had obviously dragged the two along, though Kurt couldn't even fathom for the life of him why.

"For shits and giggles." Wes shrugged, the two of them dropping the faux-innocence. David nodded as he spoke.

"We got bored, and you guys weren't there, so what else were we to do. Your awkward and self-denying friendship is our primary source of amusement and irritation." Blaine actually _face-palmed, _causing the would-be spies to smirk in triumph. "And causing you two irritation is just the icing on the cake." David continued, taking a bite from the muffin he'd ordered. "We ran into these two," he gestured to Jack and Mark, "on the way and when we told them what we were up to, they decided to come along. And for two guys who hardly know you, _even they_ can see the obvious unresolved sexual tension between you two. " He took another bite, before wrinkling his nose. "This is disgusting."

Wes leaned over to examine the half-eaten chocolate chip muffin carefully.

"You're going to be late for an important event soon."

"What?" Kurt was nonplussed, but David seemed to take this advice into account, barely surprised.

"Wes thinks that he can tell people's destinies by looking at their food. Sort of like tea leaves, only he does it with everything; muffins, yoghurt, quiche Lorraine, lasagne, semolina. So far I'm going to be killed in an avalanche_ and_ shot by the Russian mafia." Blaine explained hurriedly at Wes continued to peer at the muffin, before exclaiming.

"I wouldn't go near any bookshops for a while."

"Why's that?" David didn't even sound worried. He'd obviously had several _prophecies_ from Wes before.

"I think it would be better if you didn't know. Just stay away from any bookshops and avoid the school library, and girls called Jane." This was where Mark and Jack took their leave, offering excuses and edging away from the table as quickly as possible.

Kurt just shook his head, draining the last of his mocha. He'd learnt not to question his strange friends, and just play along, if only for the sake of his sanity. Something that had been obliterated the second he'd stepped through the solid oak doors of Dalton Academy. The second he'd heard Blaine's voice, and the second he'd seen what acceptance could be like.

"So, what were you two talking about before you found us?" Wes asked, pushing away the muffin finally having given several other predictions, involving kettles, rabbits and toy lightsabers. David seemed to have taken it all seriously, nodding away and assuring Wes that he would use this advice wisely. He actually seemed completely serious, and Kurt, the King of Sarcasm, couldn't tell if he was using it.

"Blaine found this video online about a gay protester who threw glitter on this politician guy at his book signing." Kurt supplied, and Blaine quickly retold the story.

"So is that the sort of thing you guys would do? Throw glitter and rainbow streamers around at anti-gay supporters?" David asked as he folded up their 'spying newspapers'.

"I can't see myself doing that," answered Kurt. Blaine also shook his head.

"Me neither. It only causes more trouble, and gives people more excuses to hate as well as to support you. Some of the comments on that video were horrible."

"Ah well. When you two get married we'll throw glitter instead of rice." Wes grinned, and he and David rose and left without another word, throwing smirks at the pair over their shoulders. Blaine groaned.

"Those two seriously need a sitter. Or some form of restraints."

"That's your job, Blaine." Kurt retorted, before they both followed after their friends.

**Again, thank you to everyone and their responses to this story. I found inspiration today, from three small things and built up this chapter around them. The video is real, and you can watch it here:**

**h t t p : / / w w w . y o u t u b e . c o m / w a t c h ? v = g 8 O Z s J o k B B 0 & f e a t u r e = t o p v i d e o s _ n e w s**


	7. Chapter 7

Rule number 42: **Never** **ever** let David or Wes near a laptop.

Blaine had tried to enforce this rule countless times, but to no avail. Today was one of those times. The two boys were perched once again on his bed, with Wes' red laptop balanced between them, and judging from the snippets of conversation he could hear, they were apparently playing chess.

"The tower is totally the best piece." David argued as he made a move on the virtual chessboard. Blaine groaned and switched on his revision playlist in the hopes of distracting himself.

"It's called a _castle_, dimwit." Wes flicked the other boy on the side of the head, before punching the air in triumph, obviously having taken a piece from David's side.

"Tower, castle, same thing."

"Not really."

"Whatever. Look! Someone's leg is in the window." At this Blaine looked out across at the other set of dorms which were arranged at right angles to his corridor. Indeed he could see a random leg through one of them, although who its owner was Blaine couldn't tell.

"So, tell me why you named your computer mouse Freddie?"

"Because it's totally a Freddie, obviously." Wes said this with the utmost sincerity, causing Blaine to worry about his friend's unhealthy obsession with personifying inanimate objects. To be honest, it was creepier than Sweeney Todd and his knives, his 'friends'.

"And the laptop?"

"Harry." Came the reply instantly.

"Right. Of course."

"Yeah, exactly."

There was silence for a few more minutes as Blaine concentrated on his History paper. This blissful period of calm was soon broken.

"So what's The Gavel's name?" asked David, sounding surprised that he'd never heard it before.

"...The Gavel." This was spoken as if the name should be obvious. But then, Wes took that Gavel thing way too seriously. When they all graduated the net chairman would probably only get hold of The Gavel by prying it away from Wes' cold, dead hands. But then his corpse would probably still spring to life to prevent that from happening.

"Oh."

"...you're stroking Freddie by the way, not Harry." Blaine didn't even _want_ to know.

"Now I'm stroking Harry?" Another pause, then;

"Both, really?" Oh God, just get them out of here, please. He'd do anything, anything at all.

Blaine tried turning up his music, but that unfortunately did not block the voices out. He really needed to install a lock in his bedroom door, if only so he could get some work done. He still had to hand in this paper tomorrow and was nowhere near to finishing it.

"I want my castle back, he's all isolated. Kill me so I can have a friend." Wes demanded with his eyes fixed on the laptop screen at the board that Blaine couldn't see. Honestly, he was going to fail History if these two stayed here.

"...threesome." David said with large smirk on his face, nudging Wes. Blaine's eyes shot open wide at this. If things went further down that route he would be leaving. Screw History. He could seek refuge in Kurt's room again. Damn, the boy was in Lima at the moment, but Blaine was sure he could text him for permission.

"Wait, what?" Wes sounded just as shocked as he did, which was surprising considering how many things he and David took the wrong way every day.

"My sentiments exactly," Blaine said aloud, crossing out a line on his essay.

"Three pawns out of the game...interesting." Blaine plugged in his earphones desperately, only to remember too late that they were broken. Wonderful.

"A three pawn threesome." Catching on, Wes started to laugh as they each got more and more of each other's pieces out of the game until there was about eight on each side. At this point the boys were beyond hysterical.

"I got your horse!" David crowed happily before doubling over at the vile thoughts in his head.

"It's called a knight." The other boy replied automatically, before reaching up behind David's neck. "LEARN TO DRESS YOURSELF!"

"Huh?"

"Your tag was out again." Of course the boy was obsessed with uniform. Especially the tags in the back of the red sweater vests. It drove the other boy mad and every morning found him correcting David's and Blaine's. Personally, Blaine thought these little nuances of Wes' were incredibly unhealthy.

"That's what I have you for, dearie." David patted Wes on the arm with a (hopefully fake) sickly sweet smile. "Blaaaaiiiiiine?"

"Yes?" came the reply through gritted teeth. His dentist had told him to avoid doing this, and stressful situations. The poor man didn't understand that his best friends _were_ the stressful situation.

"Do you have any food?" David said in his best wheedling voice.

"No."

"...I'm hungry."

"I honestly don't care. Go bother someone else." There was no chance of this happening, but Blaine really was nearing the end of his patience. Sometimes you just had to be harsh with these two. Sadly that worked about as well as every other technique.

**I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry for not updating for so long, and also for this teeny chapter. To be honest I'm writing this in my lunch break, and I just wanted to let you all know that I have not forgotten my other stories. I am going to try and update JLAMC as well as well as TGB.**

**Once again, the chess thing is real. Sadly. **


	8. Chapter 8

_**07:30**__ – Breakfast is open. The boys are woken up. Wes is sleeping. _

_**07:45**__ – Most of the boys are now exiting their rooms to go down to breakfast. Wes is still sleeping._

_**07:50**__ – David emerges and proceeds to collapse onto the still sleeping Wes' bed and bounce until Wes is alert enough to shove him off._

_**08:20**__ – Breakfast closes. The boys return to their rooms. Wes is now upright._

_**08:30**__ – A few boys are now down in the main building, the day students arrive. Wes is fully awake and having his 'breakfast' of a half-flat can of coke. _

_**08:45**__ – Registration in House bases. Wes stumbles inside pulling on his sweater inside out._

"Arnold Lamont?" The tutor, Mr Armstrong called out, barely looking up from his register to notice as Wes crept inside and slipped into his seat next to David, collapsing face-first onto his desk.

"You okay?" David whispered as Lamont replied. Wes gave a thumbs-up gesture.

"Wesley Montgomery?"

"Here." This was followed by roars of laughter as Wes shot up, pressing a hand to his mouth. Comprehension was already dawning in his and David's eyes as they recognised the sound he'd made. Only one thing could create such a strange tone in a 16 year old boy.

"Are you alright, Mr Montgomery?" Mr Armstrong asked, a rare smile gracing his lined face. The effect wasn't pretty.

"I-" Wes tried again, but again his voice came out high and reedy. The laughter increased, this time with David joining in.

Wes stopped trying to talk and instead scanned the faces in the room, trying to guess the culprit. It didn't take long as soon as he got to Kurt and Blaine, who were sitting there in stitches and high-fiving. Wes pointed an accusatory finger at them, catching himself from speaking again. Upon noticing him, Blaine grinned at the furious boy.

"As you so dearly love saying, Wesley, bazinga." This was a reference to the fact that Wes insisted he had coined that catchphrase before The Big Bang Theory came along.

"You should really be more careful." Kurt joined in. "But considering Helium is odourless and colourless I don't really suppose you had a chance."

**I am so sorry for the wait, and for this pitiful thing. It was a mini-idea if you will. It didn't happen at my school, but I drew inspiration from the Big Bang Theory. I know it's so short and very badly written. It's the product of a rainy Sunday afternoon.**

**If you have any scenarios you would like to see, please write me and I'd be happy to do them, considering the work load I have. Thank you to all of those who reviewed, alerted or favourited. It's such a shock when I get emails for this story, but it's lovely. **


	9. Chapter 9

Friday evening at Dalton. Not much different from other evenings, except that the younger years got to go to dinner at the same time as the older students, there was no prep, and you got a slightly extended curfew. Kurt had decided to go home for the weekend, meaning that Blaine was subjected to spending his meals and free time with his...shall we say, eccentric friends. Said eccentric friends were certainly living up to their name, but not nearly their full potential.

"Do you think," said Wes as he twirled the watery spaghetti with his fork, with an unnaturally serious expression for his features. "that those enormous pepper grinders you get in Italian restaurants are supposed to be proportional to the waiters carrying them?" Blaine promptly began choking on his food, though David appeared unaffected.

"Maybe, though they could be inversely proportioned. I mean, the size of those things..."

Blaine would have dearly loved to bash his head on the table, but at that moment was surrounded by his peers and the teachers made a general point of keeping one eye on his companions, wherever they were. The phone in his pocket vibrated, and he pulled it out to reveal a text from Kurt. Opening it, he found himself gazing at a bedroom - _don't go there brain, not now- _and although it appeared to belong to Kurt, with musical posters and tasteful decor, most of one side had been dominated by what could only be described as a _mound_ of dirty clothes, and a plate of something that had turned a funny grey colour. Blaine was instantly put off his food, although such images weren't uncommon in a boys' boarding school. There were some rooms he steadfastly refused to go to. Above the picture was written _Proof. There is no God! D: - Kurt_

"How's your little Hummel Figurine?" asked Wes, observing the simply _ridiculous_ smile that now adorned Blaine's face.

David leapt on this latest conversation and opportunity to irritate with gusto, as he always did. "He is treating you right, isn't he? Otherwise we will have to kidnap him, dunk him in boiling oil-,"

"Shove his bagpipes up his ass and castrate him with teaspoons-," Wes piped up looking scarily serious. Blaine didn't know whether to be touched at their concern or absolutely horrified.

"Yes that and then-,"

Blaine found himself lagging behind, entirely nonplussed. "Bagpipes?" Funnily enough, that was all he could really focus on.

"I think it would get the message across don't you?" Wes chewed his lip thoughtfully, looking around as if searching for inspiration. How he would find it in a dining room Blaine didn't want to know.

"Maybe some-,"

"What do you mean bagpipes?" Blaine shouted over his friends, trying hard to ignore the rest of their threats.

The two of them looked at him and rolled their eyes in sync; in the same direction. "He wore a kilt to prom." Wes shrugged. "Either that or throw haggis at his hair."

David shook his head. "On second thought, better not. Might prompt the next World War."

"And we wouldn't want that."

"Not at all."

"Never."

There was silence for a moment, before Wes continued. "You do know that if Brian hacks into my laptop and finds these plans-,"

"And just who the hell is Brian?" Blaine sniggered at the territorial look on David's face combined with his jealous tone.

"Computer guy. The one with the glasses. Replaced David." Wes drummed his fingers on the table, obviously having withdrawal symptoms from his gavel. It had been banned from the dining room after a particularly nasty incident involving hot custard, the headmaster and the gavel. The headmaster _loathed_ Wes after that. Luckily, there hadn't been any scarring.

"Ex_cuse_ me!"

"That's Andrew, not Brian." Blaine felt the need to interject here.

"I meant the other David, David. He looks like a Brian though."

"Can you guys just shut up and eat! I'd like to get back to my room _before_ I reach 30." This was ignored and the two went back to bickering, David complaining about their dessert of tinned pears with chocolate sauce, while Wes busied himself constructing revenge plans in case of an emergency. He had one for every teacher in school, and most of their class. Blaine drifted off mentally, texting a quick reply to Kurt before staring into space. Sadly only a minute had passed before his blissful obliviousness was broken.

"Can you lick chocolate off me?" David shouted, holding out his spoon with a bit of pear on it. The entire dining room went silent, heads and eyes swivelling over to their table. Laughter soon followed, and Blaine would have joined in if not for the fact that he knew just what the revenge plan for him was, and decided not to risk it.

* * *

><p>After dinner (and David's hurried explanation that he had meant the <em>pear<em>, not himself, which Wes and Blaine ignored and would hold over his head forever) Blaine found himself sitting at his desk, Googling monologues for his drama class. He could hear David trying to explain Math to Wes:

"Look, the straight lines are heterosexual because they are attracted to curves. Homosexual lines are parallel to eachother because they are the same."

"So does that make the perpendicular bisectors bi because they're the same but different?"

Blaine was pretty sure none of that was in the syllabus.

He worked in peace for another ten minutes before the door to his room burst open (it was never opened, always burst, smashed or crashed) and the duo stood there, with Wes attempting to...pull David's shirt off.

The room's owner felt the need to nip this in the bud _now_. "Uh... guys, just because I'm gay, that doesn't mean I want to watch you two get it on. You have your own room for that."

"No, he's got my t-shirt!" Wes was now spinning his arms wildly, held back cartoon style by David pushing at his forehead with one hand. With the other David stripped off the shirt, thankfully revealing another underneath, throwing open the topmost cupboard -unused by Blaine due to the simple fact that he couldn't _reach _it- and tucked the shirt inside. Wes was then dragged to the bed, having not seen David hide the shirt, and was immediately tackled.

"Give me a hug." Instead of fighting back, Wes complied. Blaine at this point had turned back to his work, this being a common occurrence. Since arriving at Dalton, he had never had a peaceful evening. Or morning. Or afternoon. Or just peace in general.

"Why are you touching my neck?" the voice of Wes came after a minute of silence in which Blaine presumed they were still cuddling.

"I'm feeling your nodes."

"My what?"

"Your lymph nodes. You have them in your neck, arm pits, stomach and other places. Now would you stop stroking my thigh?"

"I'm not stroking your thigh, I didn't even move!" Wes protested, Blaine shutting his eyes tight and praying they would go away soon. Simply asking or telling them to go was never enough.

A minute or so later, there was a rustling and David spoke this time. "Look, you have to either hold my hand or keep your own on my back, if that's the only way you can keep your fingers to yourself. Otherwise I will tie you down with my Snuggie."

There was whispering and suddenly David's voice rose again. "Why are you touching my moobs! My breasts are not tickly!" Blaine tried desperately to ignore the fact that his best friend had just claimed to have breasts.

"My hand slipped there, I didn't do it on purpose. Your necks in my way so it wasn't like I could really move it now, could I?"

Silence, and more noises. Blaine was starting to worry now, unwilling to turn around. He had never planned on being there when his friends had stopped playing around and really accepted their sexualities and desire for each other. He had always planned to be far, far away by that time.

"Stop feeling up my fingers!" David hissed. Blaine had never heard of one person being 'groped' so much in his entire life.

"Can you feel up a finger? Let's try!" At this Blaine grabbed his headphones, plugged them into his laptop and turned up the volume on his iTunes, staring intently ahead of him.

"Seriously guys, don't you have homework or something?"

"I think he's trying to get rid of us." Wes observed mildly to his companion.

"I think you're right."

"Leave, get out, depart, piss off, shoo, skedaddle. Dear God, his friend had become a human thesaurus.

"You're Shoo, I'm Skedaddle. Right?"

"Right."

"Well, I need to check laundry. See you, Blainey-Poo-Darling." With that, David flounced out of the room, eerily similar to Kurt's flounce, followed closely by his pet Wes. Blaine sighed in relief and pulled out his headphones, collapsing onto his desk.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, in the laundry room, David was retrieving his clothes from the tumble dryer.<p>

"Okay, this is mine...mine, not mine, Jeff's...the black panties are most definitely not mine."

"Dammit."

David looked up, smirking. "Why did you say dammit? Do you have some weird fetish for guys wearing girl's undies?"

"I didn't say dammit, I said no." Countered Wes. David looked unconvinced, before glancing back at the offending item.

"You know, this reminds me of 10 Things I Hate About You. It said somewhere that girls only wear black underwear if they plan on having sex."

"How does that work?" Wes asked, before holding up his hands quickly. "No wait don't tell me. I'm more interested in the reason as to why you were watching a chick flick?"

* * *

><p><strong>You have permission to kill me. Seriously you do. I have been terrible to you guys, and to readers of JLAMC. The last couple of weeks have inspired this chapter, particularly this evening, in which most of this happened. You really have my best friends to thank for Wes and David, but it's up to you whether to decide if they are as hilarious as they believe, or as deranged as I know.<strong>

**I am so sorry to those who were waiting for ages for this update. To those of you who are fairly recent, welcome and thank you for reading thus far. Thanks to everyone who has reviewd/alerted/favourite and if you have any prompts for scenes or questions don't hesitate to PM me. Hope this wasn't too bad after such a long hiatus.**


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